


can i stay with you

by venaefica



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Disassociation, Holding Hands, M/M, Yikes, im sorry i did him like that he is just a babie and he deserves the world, oh god they are holding hands, theyre out of character again, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venaefica/pseuds/venaefica
Summary: they are... they are holding hands....
Relationships: Charlie Dalton/Steven Meeks
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	can i stay with you

**Author's Note:**

> my girlfriend is 1300 miles away.  
> i miss her.  
> which means that charlie and steven are gonna fucking hold hands.

The orange light of the late evening illuminated the library rather poorly. Meeks hadn't noticed that though. He'd been staring into space for the past eternity or however long it had been. Time couldn't seem to wrap its cold hand around him, leaving Meeks sitting at a nearly empty table, staring at god knows what for god knows how long. He didn't think he was staring of course. To him, it had been only a moment. Time simply could not leave an impression on him. 

"Hey!" A familiar voice rang through the library, its owner disregarding the low level of voice one should use in such a room. "You're sleeping with your eyes open again!"

And just like that, time started for him again. 

Meeks shifted his gaze from the vastness of space to Charlie, who, again disregarding the sort of place he was in, was running to meet him. He gave his friend a small smile and an eye roll, effectively telling him that he had only glanced up from his reading for a moment. 

"Yes you were!" Charlie argued back to the silence, "It's 6:45! The sun's setting!" 

Oh. Meeks looked to the window, which overlooked a small lake that reflected a lovely orange sunset. 

His heart dropped as he let out his next breath. 

He had done it again. 

For the third time that week. 

And it was only Tuesday. 

Charlie spoke again, this time in a voice so uncharacteristically gentle that it didn't seem to be his, but Meeks had heard Charlie say the those words so many times. The voice was Charlie's. It just was. 

"Is --" 

"No."

"Do you --"

"No."

"Can I --"

"Please."

Charlie pulled a chair over next to Meeks and sat down.

His next line was supposed to be 'let me know if you want anything,' but he didn't get to say it this time. Meeks had already leaned over and buried his head in the crook of Charlie's neck.

"You're doing good," he opted to say instead, hoping that Meeks would jump at the opportunity to correct him. Silence. "Seriously. One time less than yesterday is still progress." He received a soft sigh in response. That was progress too. Little things were always progress on days like this. They had to be. 

Their comfortable silence lasted a while before Charlie broke it and went off-script again. "I'm proud of you." He took Meeks' hand. Nothing. "For working on this." No response. He started tracing circles on the back of Meeks' hand. "Don't make me say your first name," he joked, his gentle voice becoming slightly more out of place, "because I'll do it." Still nothing. "Steven I swear to god," Charlie feigned annoyance, squeezing his hand tightly, "I'm really proud of you, okay?"

He could've sworn he felt Meeks smile ever so slightly. Then it faltered.

"What if tomorrow's worse though?"

"I'd still be proud of you. And I'd be happy to be here for you again."

Meeks squeezed Charlie's hand.

**Author's Note:**

> i needed this 
> 
> thanks for letting me write it  
> and thanks for reading it uwu


End file.
